


Talk To Me

by sallyamongpoison



Series: Thedas Wasteland AU [2]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Blood, Dirty conditions, M/M, gunshot wound, kinda hurt/comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-05-02 09:50:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5243834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sallyamongpoison/pseuds/sallyamongpoison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Cullen is wounded and Dorian must keep him conscious.</p><p>Written for the prompt: things you said when you were scared</p>
            </blockquote>





	Talk To Me

Dorian saw the shot before he heard the gun fire. The flash of the muzzle, the crack echoing in the air, and the sound of Cullen crumpling to the ground had all happened in slowed time. His heart had stopped, actually stopped, and Dorian felt like he was crumpling right there with him.

Thankfully Cullen was the better marksman and the man who shot him went down missing a chunk of his face. That was only marginally comforting, though, and certainly didn’t help where Cullen was clutching his shoulder and trying very hard not to writhe on the ground. His breathing was coming out in thick pants, hissed out through clenched teeth, and he curled in on himself as blood started to bloom across the already dirty and threadbare shirt he wore.

“Fuck!” he hissed as his other arm curled around his chest, “Maker fucking  _shit_!”

Dorian was beside him in an instant, fingers unbuckling the scant armor Cullen wore on his shoulders to get at the wound a bit better, “Stay still,” he instructed. It was hard to keep his voice calm as fear coursed through his blood just as much as adrenaline did, but he managed. Mostly.

From what he could tell, the bullet had gone clean through. Thank the Maker. They’d already been up for twenty hours and Dorian’s hands weren’t steady enough to try to dig a bullet out of Cullen’s shoulder. He quickly dropped his pack to the ground beside him and dug out some clean water and bandages so he could at least get pressure on it. for hi part, Cullen just ground his teeth and dealt with it but he was already looking pale.

“Talk to me,” Dorian told him as he pressed the wad of clean rags against Cullen’s shoulder, “come on.”

There was that same breathing through gritted teeth but it slowed after a moment, “Y-you remember when I met you?” Cullen asked.

Ah, that was a favorite topic. Whenever one of them was anxious or hurting, they tended to reminisce. Dorian didn’t mind, though. Much like a child, Dorian rather liked hearing stories like that. It reminded him that it wasn’t always… well, not always like this with bullet wounds. “How could I forget?” he asked as he lifted his gaze to meet Cullen’s, “but tell me. I want to know what you remember.”

Cullen let out a gasp for how hard Dorian pressed on the wound, bit his lip, and breathed deep again. “You walked into Haven like you owned the place,” he started after a moment, “even half dead like you were.”

“Running from Venatori drifters will do that,” Dorian teased as he pulled out some tape and ripped off a long strip to keep the bandages in place. That would have to do until they could get back to camp and Dorian could deal with this properly.

One of Cullen’s hands smoothed along Dorian’s lower back, “I think you fainted in my arms on purpose.”

Dorian smirked at the memory and turned to press a kiss against Cullen’s temple, “Only mostly,” he teased before looking over the patch job, “come on. Let’s get you back to camp and I’ll get this sorted out better.”

–

Even with the wound patched up, Cullen’s body seemed to not be handling the trauma well. They’d been living on a steady diet of canned food more recently as opposed to fresh crops and meat, which couldn’t have been good for their health. The man was feverish, pale and sweating as he slept with his head in Dorian’s lap, and Dorian was trying harder than he could remember trying to keep himself calm. Cullen would be fine. He was always fine. They’d both been shot before, after all. They were both a mess of ropey and puckered scars where armor wasn’t quite enough or didn’t cover.

But bad things did happen.

A knot of fear had settled itself deep in Dorian’s stomach. They’d retired to bed in the abandoned caravan they’d found, curled up on the mattress that had been left, and Dorian bundled them up in whatever blankets and spare clothes they had. At this rate, with Cullen like he was, they weren’t going anywhere for a while. That was dangerous. The whole thing was dangerous.

“I remember when I saw you,” Dorian murmured in the quiet. Even the humming bugs and wildlife were asleep.

“You were all flannel shirts and that shotgun pointed past me the minute I said I was being chased,” he went on, “my fucking  _hero_.”

His eyes felt hot out of nowhere, hot like Cullen’s skin was both hot and cold, and Dorian wiped at them with the heel of his hand. “I mean, I always kind of hoped for my own knight in shining armor. I got an ex-military man in holey flannel, but that’s just as good, right? Especially with your hair all curling in the sun and looking like those ruined statues in the Imperium. Some…old God or something.”

Now his voice was shaking and he hugged Cullen closer to him. The man’s breathing was steady, which was a good sign, but he was so hot and cold. His hands were like ice, from what Dorian could feel of them where they were hiked up under his legs, but his chest was flushed pink. It wasn’t…it was worrisome. And he didn’t even have Cullen awake to promise everything would be okay.

“Don’t you fucking die on me, you hear me?” Dorian prompted. He curled the blankets in closer to them to trap their body heat, and raked his fingers through the blond’s shoulder length curls. somehow they always managed to look perfectly tousled, even without sneaking away for a wash or a trim like Dorian often did.

“Don’t…please, don’t. Cullen, please.”

He lowered his head to rest his forehead against Cullen’s sweaty brow, “I need you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come see me on tumblr! @sallyamongpoison


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